The Condensed Tale of Ava Reinhart
by RecursiveAcronym
Summary: After a tragic accident, Ava Reinhart, daughter of Apollo, is left mute. These are the chronicles of her life and her struggles of being a mute daughter of the God of Music.


**New story, guys! This one involves my OC, Ava. Rick Riordan owns everything from PJO. I own Ava, Will, and Carter. And yes, Malcolm is the guy from the beginning of Battle of the Labyrinth. **

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><p>"C'mon, c'mon!" Will shouted down at me, his curly hair matted down with blood. Tips of horns that he had revealed to me earlier peaked out from his head. "We're almost there!" He glanced down at me, runnning as fast up the hill as I could with a limp on my right leg. He was standing near a tall pine tree that had a snake wrapped around the trunk. I blinked a few times, before realizing it wasn't a snake. It was much thicker than any normal snake, and seemed to have small wings as well. A golden-colored sheepskin was draped over a branch. Wait, a golden fleece?<p>

_That tears it_, I thought, slightly slowing down my pace due to my thoughts. _I'm definitely hallucinating. _

A sharp bark snapped me out of my thoughts, making me aware again of the black dogs pursuing me that were built like a truck. Hellhounds, Will had called them, a name I vaguely remembered from Greek Mythology, a section in History we learned about. What in the world?

_I'm almost there..._ I thought, as I continued fleeing for my life from the red-eyed mastiffs. I had but a few yards to go, but the hill was getting steeper and steeper. My whole body was sore and aching. My limbs pleaded for me to stop, but I knew I'd be dead meat if I did that. Will continued to urge me on from above. Easy for him to say. He was already there.

Suddenly, mere feet from the tree where Will was awaiting, my legs gave way. I tumbled onto the grass below. "Ava!" Will screeched, rushing down to come to my aid. I scrambled to my feet, but I was a hair too slow. One of the faster hellhounds had caught up, and with a furry paw slashed at my neck. Blood immediately started gushing from the wound. This wound felt much more serious than my others, much deeper. Since it was at my neck, it was a miracle I could still breathe. Meanwhile, Will had caught up to me. Hoisting me up and carrying me piggy-back style, he began to dart back up the hill in that odd walking way of his, the hellhounds on our tail.

Suddenly we reached the top. Lunging past the large pine tree, Will sighed with relief. At once a feeling of safety enveloped me, even though I knew the hellhounds were right behind us. The hellhounds for some reason didn't follow instead barking at us in frustration and turning around. People began to surround me, wanting to get a glimpse of me. Overlapping voices rang out. "Get her to the Big House!" "I wonder who's Cabin she'll be put in..." "Geez, she's beat up." I felt myself losing it, descending into darkness. "Help me," I croaked in the loudest voice I could muster, before blacking out. It would not be until later until I realized I hadn't made a sound.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Hey, I think she's coming to," I heard a voice comment. My vision was blurry, but slowly things came into focus. I was laying down on what seemed like a gurney, in a mini, one room hospital. To my left was a boy with sandy-blonde hair. It was medium length for a boys, and was a wavy in a way that would've seen girly on anyone but him. His hazel eyes sparkled in a friendly way and there was a smile planted on his face, but there was also an underlying threat of _Don't cross me, I can gut you like a fish_.

Meanwhile on my right was a boy with slightly curly hair, a seemingly dull red. His skin was rather tan for a redhead, as the freckles that peppered his face blended in rather well with his face. But what really stood out were his eyes, a stormy gray color that seemed like they contained infinite knowledge but were still looking for more. His face was blank.

"Hey, how you doing?" the blonde boy asked, peering at me curiously. "I'm Carter, and this is Malcolm," he explained, gesturing to the red head.

"I'm doing pretty well for just being attacked by weird red-eyed dogs," I replied with a sarcastic tone. Honestly I was freaked, questioning what had happened. Carter and Malcolm just looked at each other, having a conversation with their eyes. Soon, they turned back to me.

"Uhm, can you talk?" Malcolm, questioned, staring at me like was a freak. I gave him an _Are you kidding me? _look, before saying "Uhm, duh!" while nodding. Carter and Malcolm glanced at each other again, and with a start I realized why. I hadn't made a sound, and instead I was just mouthing the words when I thought I was talking. My eyes widened with fear, wondering what had happened.

Carter stared me over like I was a piece of meat, before reaching down to my neck. He gingerly touched the scar on my neck that was caused by the hellhounds. He retracted his hand, nodding. "The attack probably damaged your vocal cords. If they aren't too badly damaged, maybe I can..." He touched his icy-cold palm against my warm neck, before singing a small song in some foreign language. Latin, maybe? Immediately my neck relaxed, the swelling going down, but the scar was still visible. I experimentally tried saying some words, but nothing came out. Carter frowned.

"Your vocal cords are almost completely severed. I think only dad could heal them," he remarked, retracting his hand. " We've never had someone who couldn't talk before. We should probably take you straight to Chiron, so he can say what to do with you."

Malcolm shook his head. "No, we should make her watch the introduction video. That's what Chiron told us to do, and it'll save him from a lot of explaining," he responded.

"No, straight to Chiron!" Carter retorted.

"Introduction video," Malcolm said, snobbishly turning his nose up as if he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Chiron."

"Video."

"Chiron!"

"Video!"

"Chiron!"

"Video!"

"Rock, paper, scissors?"

"You're on!"

Suddenly I felt very awkward, watching the two teenage boys childishly duel it out. They smacked their fists on their palms three times while chanting "Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!" before revealing their figure. In Malcolm's open palm was a closed fist, or "rock", while Carter had almost a close fist, though his pointer finger was pointing out to imitate a gun.

"Ha, gun! I win!" Carter exclaimed in a sing-song voice. "Now, let's take her to Chiron."

"Actually," Malcolm corrected, his eyes glimmering as he pulled out his ace in the hole. "A rock could certainly beat a gun, assuming you've aimed correctly to clog up the barrel. See, one of my siblings Amalthea calculated this formula. It states if you launch a rock at the angle of exactly 140 degrees with a certain amount of force, it will always launch itself into the barrel. The force depends on how far away you are, using the formula D*123-17..."

Carter let out a strangled moan. "Fine, you win. Happy now? We'll take her to the video first, if you just _shut up_!" he demanded. A self-satisfied grin appeared on Malcolm's face. Carter turned back to me. "Hey, can you stand?"

I sat up, trying to slide myself off the bed. As soon as I tried to stand erect completely, my knees gave out and  
>I toppled. "Whoah!" Carter shouted, catching me. I had almost forgotten that my ankle had sprained. Carter had healed it mostly when I was sleeping, but it was still weak. "I'll take that as a no," Carter remarked. He gestured me to wrap my arm around his shoulder. "Here, I'll support you. C'mon, the projector room isn't that far."<p>

After a pause, I obeyed, struggling to hobble out of the room and to wherever the projector room was, knowing this would probably answer many of the questions floating through my mind.

OOOOOOOOOO

After the introduction video, the fact Chiron was a centaur didn't surprise me all that much. I think my head was still spinning from all the information. I was still sitting in the projector room, dazed, 5 minutes after the video ended before Carter and Malcolm had the sense to walk in and help me out, realizing I couldn't move on my own without collapsing.

Carter and Malcolm explained my situation, and that I was mute. Chiron inhaled all of this information easily, stroking his beard as they alternated explaining and fought while they did. When they finished, he finally spoke, "I don't think she'll have any problems being mute."

"But what if she falls and gets hurt or gets in trouble and needs someone? She needs to be able to contact somebody!" Carter exclaimed.

"It sounds like you don't trust her," Malcolm remarked coolly, a smirk on his face. Carter's cheeks instantly flushed red. "Shaddup!" he exclaimed.

"I trust that she will be fine," Chiron dictated, quickly shutting up the two. "Now, Carter, can you go get her a pair of crutches? The campfire is almost here. I have a feeling she'll be claimed then."


End file.
